


Contemplations of an expectant father

by ch19777



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-26
Updated: 2005-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch19777/pseuds/ch19777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke and Lorelai are expecting their first child. Luke shares his thoughts and feelings during the pregnancy with us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Creating the future

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** No, I still don't own the show or the characters. Would have been a nice Christmas present, but Santa didn't care.
> 
>  **A/N:** It's weird to write from a man's point of view if you don't belong to that species. So don't be surprised if you notice a feminine side at Luke. ;o)

**October**

I'm still processing the idea that I, Luke Danes, will be a father. Although I know it for several weeks now and it didn't happen completely unexpected, the thought is still new and overwhelming. Frightening even, although not as much as I imagined it would be.

When Lorelai and I had married we had agreed to let the topic children rest for a while. A few month later I witnessed some tiny changes in her behavior. Sure, she still was my witty, beautiful and coffee-addicted wife, with whom I loved to spend every minute possible. But I noticed a pensive side of her I never knew before. When we finally talked about it, she admitted that she was ready to have a child with me. Patiently I listened to her babble about soon being to old for reproduction and that mankind would die out if everyone didn't want kids. I held her close to me, dried the tears she had shed and told her I could imagine having kids with her. And I didn't just say that to make her stop crying. What surprised me even more than her, I really wanted it.

From that day on we were in „production mode". Luckily the horror visions of scheduled sex, that formed in my mind after hearing Lorelai say those two words, didn't come true. We were both convinced that our usual sexual activities would be enough to eventually achieve our goal. Nothing changed. Except that every time we made love I had a vague feeling of power because of the possibility we might create new life at exactly that moment.

When we went to bed one night, about 5 months later, I nearly crushed a cuddly toy which mysteriously lay on my side of the bed. I picked up the little yellow duck and looked at Lorelai questioningly. With shiny eyes she told me „You really should get used to the idea of toys scattered all over the house." I needed a few seconds to realize what she wanted to say with that. A simple „Honey, I'm pregnant." just wouldn't have been like her. My mouth dropped open, my eyes grew wide and I remember that my fingers digged into the plushy material of the duck. With a smile on her face she let me ride out the wave of my initial shock until my stunned facial expression (which is still mockable to her weeks later) was replaced by a broad smile.

In that night I couldn't let her go for one second. We clung to each other tightly, looked into each other's eyes and exchanged soft kisses now and then. She told me about her doctor's appointment in the morning and that she didn't want to tell me before she was completely sure she was pregnant. Later we got rid of our pajamas, they just created an unnecessary barrier between us. We didn't really sleep with each other that night. I'm not sure why, but it just felt right that way. Maybe we were too excited and giddy to concentrate on the actual act. Nevertheless were our hands and lips unable to stop touching the other. My hands caressed every inch of her skin, like to show her my esteem for the changes and h ard work her body would undergo in the next months. My lips placed kisses on her mouth, neck, breasts and stomach. Before going down further my tongue took a break at one of it's favorite parking spaces on her body, her belly button. It was almost incomprehensible for me that underneath it was growing a child. Our child.

Way past midnight, when we were both quite exhausted but satisfied, Lorelai showed me the ultrasound picture the doctor had given her. I have to admit, to me it looked like one of those strange abstract paintings, but she pointed our baby out to me. Apparently it was only the size of a bean at that time, unbelievable.

„The doctor said the baby was conceived around August 12. Do you remember what we did that day?" she asked and raised her eyebrows suggestively. Of course I did. Lorelai had persuaded me to have a picnic on that Saturday, because we didn't have one on Independence Day. I had grumbled about it (after all I had a reputation to live up to), but actually I liked the idea of spending the whole day alone with her. However, when we woke up that morning we looked out unsuccessfully for the sun and blue sky the weather forecast had promised. Instead it was grey and rainy and thundery. We decided to transfer our plans to the house. But since we spent the whole day in bed our „picnic" didn't include much food. There was something special about our lovemaking that day. Our moans mingled with the sound of the raindrops against the window, from time to time flashs of lightning illuminated our intertwined naked bodies and our orgasms were accompanied by the rumbling thunder. If I'd use that kind of words I'd even say it was magical.

„I know that August 12 is only an approximate date, but I wouldn't be surprised if it happend on that day." I told her. She agreed with that whole-heartedly. We spent the rest of the night talking about our baby and the future. Now and then one of us turned on the light to tak e another look at the blurry ultrasound picture.

That night will be imprinted on my memory forever, together with the night of our first date, the sunny day we married and the rainy day our child was procreated. It's amazing how that tiny accumulation of cells can bring us even closer together than we already were. Who knows what happens when it's born. Before that time comes we still have seven months ahead of us. I know they will be demanding, but right now I'm really excited about everything and think together we can get through it. And tomorrow I'll go and buy a reference book about pregnancy and birth, it can't hurt to be prepared.

* * *


	2. Change is not a process for the impatient

**December**

I had always imagined a pregnancy would change our life completely from the very beginning. But that's not the way it goes. Changes happen step by step, so inconspicuously that you can only notice them when you pay really close attention. For weeks there is no evidence, nothing tangible. Except the one ultrasound picture which has found it's place on the door of the fridge and the little yellow duck that has settled down on our bedside table. Without any noticeable sign it's not easy to fully grasp the concept that there will be a baby in a while.

That all changed when I accompanied Lorelai to the doctor for the first time and got a live impression of our child. I even recognized it on the screen without any help. It was over 3 inches by then and seemed to be floating happily in it's own small universe. But it needed the sound of the fast little heart beat that I totally realized: there is really a human being growing inside Lorelai's womb. On the way home the only thing I could say over and over again was „Wow", while my wife gently stroked my leg. That day we told Rory and her parents about the pregnancy. I was afraid Rory wouldn't like the idea to get a brother or sister at her age. But she was really happy about it and she and Lorelai immediately began to discuss girl's and boy's names for the baby. _My_ son will _not_ wear the name Bono, by the way. That applies to my daughter as well. Emily and Richard seemed to be pleased about our news too, as far as you can tell by their understated way to expre ss joy. But the next day Emily faxed us a list of hospitals she approves of, so I guess this is a good sign.

The town also knows it. As always Miss Patty was reliable to uncover our little secret. And of course to inform the other residents as well. Everyone is excited and they already plan a baby party and whatnot. But I can live with that, although it was a little strange that Kirk slapped my back and winked at me when he congratulated.

On the surface Lorelai is like always. Surprisingly the lack of caffeine in her veins doesn't change her nature one bit. I'm still amazed how she stopped drinking coffee as soon as she knew she was pregnant. The discussion about that, which I thought would occur inevitably, never came. It's not that she cured the hunger in the world or something, but I'm indescribably proud of her for putting her needs aside the well-being of our baby. I guess I should tell her that.

Lorelai's stomach seems to have a magnetic effect on my hand. I'm never able to stop touching her belly when we spent time together, not even while we're sleeping. Must be some kind of instinct, I suppose. I want to embrace her as tight as I can and at the same time protect her from everything that could hurt her. I often try to imagine, what happens inside my wife's womb, how fragile everything must be. Maybe at this moment a little thumb is created, or a tiny nostril. From the book I bought I know how much could go wrong. I don't want to muse over it, but I can't stop these thoughts. Lorelai always tries to reassure me, according to the doctor everything is fine. For now. She seems to be so self-confident in her role as a mother-to-be. Sure, she's already been through that once, but shouldn't _I_ be the one to reassure and support _her_?

Every night, when I already lie in bed, Lorelai inspects her body in the mirror, turns around, bends and stretchs. And every time she exclaims, that her stomach is grown a little. „Look! Do you see that? That's a belly! Look!" At the beginning I didn't see it. To me she was as slim as before. The book agrees with me, it was too early to notice anything. But I enjoyed her enthusiasm. And the bending and stretching as well. As a bonus to the pregnancy her breasts extended in a glorious way. Not that I'm complaining, but what is the biological reason to let the bust grow before the stomach? Not even my loyal book knows an answer to that question. Suddenly I got my long awaited tangible sign – a single droplet of milk appeared at her nipple. That little bit of milk means a huge difference to me: breast, milk and baby, that makes sense.

Soon her belly began to grow too. The first button on a pair of jeans stayed open. As much as Lorelai had waited for that to happen and as small as the increase still is, she gets insecure about her new body size now and then. „Luke, do you think I'm too fat? I feel kind of bloated right now. Will you still love me when I look like Anna Nicole Smith in her worst days? We spent too little time together, don't you think?" Wow. Nothing of that is true, not one word. She looks more beautiful than ever and with every inch her belly grows she gets more adorable and vulnerable to me. My only answer is to pull her into the bed and close to me and show her that she's still the most desirable woman in the world. One kiss, and she's her chatty, amazing and slightly crazy self again. After the second kiss the chatty attitude is gone. Maybe my kisses do that to her, maybe pregnancy mood swings are to blame for the change. Either way, I enjoy being so close to her. I might imagine thi ngs, but it seems that her skin is softer, every touch more delicate than before she was carrying our child.

In the first weeks of the pregnancy we still made love almost every night or morning or sometimes both. This wonderful custom came to an abrupt end because of the nausea that hit Lorelai every evening after dinner for a couple of weeks. 'Wasn't that supposed to be _morning_ sickness?' I asked myself several times while I held up her hair when she threw up. Nature has strange ways to confuse a prospective father. I felt quite helpless during that time, I couldn't do much to make her feel better. I cooked her tummy-friendly food, but that didn't do the trick. Finally we discovered that the only thing to prevent her from vomiting was a sip of coke. It's not the healthiest medicine in my opinion, but I was glad it helped her. The nausea is gone now and we slowly get back to the former pattern of our bed-related actions.

After we sleep together I often lay my head on Lorelai's stomach. Sometimes you can hear a bubbly sound inside. I like the idea, that this could be the baby's way to tell me, that everything is okay in there. And also that it doesn't mind to share it's mommy with me sometimes. From time to time I get a little jealous about the tight bond that forms between Lorelai and our little one, like I would be only an astonished onlooker. But since yesterday I feel like a new man. The most amazing thing happened: I felt our baby move. Apparently it is very clever already and found a new way to communicate with us. Lorelai was up before me, she sleeps not very well these days because she can't lie on her stomach anymore. She woke me up as soon as she noticed the movement. Although I touched her belly immediately, I had to wait half an hour before I could feel something too. I would have never thought that this could have such a huge effect on me, but I still get goose bumps when I thi nk about it. Can you imagine me, a grown-up man, talking to his unborn child? Because that's what I did. This experience was so overwhelming that I don't care, what anyone thinks about me or that my wife calls me lovingly „Softy" even in the presence of other people.

It bugs me, that I can't relieve Lorelai of any burdens the pregnancy involves. But I think I take good care of her and our little addition to the family. I massage her back and legs when they hurt. I watch out that she eats and drinks enough and takes her vitamins. Whenever I cook, I always foist something healthy on her. She makes a face like the infamous nausea would strike again – but nevertheless clears her plate completely. We often take long walks in the snow, wrapped up warmly against the icy winter air. At home we proceed with a different kind of physical activity to warm up our bodies.

We both have to spent much time at work, apparently everyone wants to celebrate their wedding at the Dragonfly this month and the diner is crowded with hungry people all the time. But our days begin and end in each other's arms. The thought of our child is present constantly. And it's the main topic of most our conversations. Lorelai is still busy with Christmas preparations. She even bought a tiny stocking for our baby and put it up by the fireplace. „This Christmas the baby isn't born yet and doesn't need a stocking." I told her. „I know, but this way we're already well prepared for next Christmas". What can you say against the logic of a pregnant woman, especially if her name is Lorelai Danes? Nothing, exactly. I just enjoy her childlike anticipation of Christmas and make sure she doesn't lift up something too heavy in her decoration frenzy. She insisted that she doesn't want any presents for herself this year and that everyone should buy something for the baby inst ead. I tried to protest, but didn't succeed. „Honey, you already gave me the best present I could wish for." The logic again. So I hired an architect to work out a way to squeeze another room into the upper floor. We don't want to use Rory's room for the baby. It's too far away from our bedroom and besides I think Rory would mind that, although she doesn't use it anymore. I already gift-wrapped the architect's plan and put it under the tree. Judging by the look Lorelai throws at it every time she passes by, the curiosity what is inside the packet nearly kills her. I just had a funny thought: that equals exactly the way I feel about our baby. Only that I have to wait till May for the secret to be resolved.

* * *

**TBC...**


	3. Blueberries and Paranoia

**February**

I seem to need less sleep now. According to Lorelai this is Mother Nature's way to suggest that _I_ should get up whenever our baby will cry at night. My argument, that spending less time at the diner (I hired an additional employee) leads to less stress and therefore to less tiredness, is in comparison of course very weak. I use the time I lie awake to watch my sleeping wife and to think about the future, how everything will be after the birth of our baby. This pregnancy has already changed me a lot. The old Luke would have been upset the other day at the diner, when a little girl had put her tongue out at me. But my new self just laughed and was rewarded with her adorable smile.

A couple of nights ago I dreamt about the tree house I had as a kid. I was climbing up the rope ladder until I reached the familiar wooden interior, looking exactly like it had in my childhood. The boxes with my baseball cards were there. The rock shaped like a heart, which I brought up from the bottom of the lake in the summer before my mother died. The Star Trek poster Elise Fisher made for me in 7th grade because...well, she liked me. I recognized the spot on the ground where I had scribbled down some numbers for my math homework. Though nothing really happened in my dream, I was unable to fall asleep again after waking up from it. Many of my happiest, but also some of my saddest memories are connected with this tree house and I had repressed them for years. My dad had built it when I was six, he had spent every minute he wasn't at his store to finish it. It was my haven, where I went to do my homework undisturbed, to think about everything that was on my mind. And to e scape from Liz during her I-follow-Luke-everywhere-phase. Apparently she worshipped me as a child, but was luckily (or unfortunately for her) afraid of heights. My dad sometimes joined me up there, but the last time he climbed up was to convince me to finally come down three days after my mother's death. In retrospect I think building this house was one of the greatest things he ever did for me, he knew I sometimes needed a space just for me. I wonder if I can be a father as great as he was. Hopefully I'll be able to overcome these insecurities during the next 3 months, I don't want to be one of those overanxious dads. Maybe this dream was a sign for me to remember my childhood and to benefit from those memories. I like the idea to built my son a tree house when he is old enough. I already spotted the perfect tree behind our house. Maybe I could also make one if we get a daughter. Girls like tree houses too, right?

But for now I'm busy enough with building the furniture for our baby. Now that the construction of the new baby's room is finished, we are about to furnish and decorate. Sometimes Lorelai's and my opinion on that are very divided. Not long ago we had a "clown wallpaper against sun, moon & stars wallpaper" discussion. In the end we just painted the walls yellow and added a border with teddy bears. Regarding the furniture we didn't find what we were looking for, so I decided to make it. I'm almost done with a little wardrobe and currently I'm searching for the right wood for the bed. Too bad that I can't create all the baby stuff myself, so I was forced to spent a whole afternoon at the mall. But it wasn't as bad as I had expected. Lorelai was feeling a little tired and her back was aching, so we just concentrated on the essential things we needed. No several hours of watching my wife trying on every dress in a store or her talking me into buying a new sweater. We took a break at a café (me drinking tea and Lorelai hot chocolate), were I had to smile because of our reflections in the large mirror on the wall. I tried to imagine how other people would see us: Lorelai obviously pregnant, nibbling at the cake on my plate because her's was already eaten, my hand playing with her free one. We really look like a family, was what I thought. We were very successful with our shopping and bought lots of clothes and bottles and other things for the baby. I almost can't believe how tiny the clothes are and Lorelai says they might even be too big in the beginning. Let's hope I don't crush our child when I hold it the first time. We had to choose neutral colors for everything because we still have no idea if in Lorelai's womb is growing a girl or a boy. It's not that we don't want to know, but our little one likes to play games and doesn't reveal it's gender to us. Every time we see our baby on the screen during the ultrasound it's in a different positi on. But every time in one where you can't see anything for sure. The doctor is meanwhile already laughing as soon as we enter the room.

The whole last week we didn't have much time for us. Lorelai spent a big amount of time at the Inn, more than I think is good for her. But she hired a young woman as a stand-in during the last weeks of the pregnancy and the first weeks after the baby is born. It takes much time to prepare that woman for all the tasks she will have to deal with. I often visit Lorelai at work to make sure she doesn't overwork herself and I instructed Sookie to take care of her when I'm not there. Adding to the full schedule Lorelai already has, Emily and Richard insisted on throwing a baby shower. Our baby now has lots of things it will never ever need in it's whole life, given by people who neither Lorelai nor me knew before. One day after the party Rory suddenly crashed in and took up residence in her old room till this morning. I suppose she had some trouble at school or with a boy or both. She was not willing to talk about it, not even with her mother. We didn't want to urge her to tell us, but I hope she is okay.

Tonight we were finally able to spent some time alone and to return to our usual evening rituals. I picked up Lorelai at the Inn. At home we had dinner with Lorelai scrutinizing if she really had to eat _all_ the the healthy stuff on her plate. It is a game, we both know she will eat it anyway. But I would miss something if she wouldn't comment on every vegetable she picks up with her fork. All in all Lorelai hasn't changed her food preferences (everything containing lots of fat and sugar) during the pregnancy, only that she doesn't live up to them now. Extended food cravings and weird combinations didn't occur. Well, except that one night when I woke up in bed alone and found her in the kitchen – contemplating whether or not the blueberries from Jackson's greenhouse mixed with cheddar cheese would match her current taste. Disgustingly enough they did. But it was good that she voluntarily ate fruits.

The next topic on our agenda of the perfect evening is always Lorelai's ode to coffee while we are washing the dishes. She has big plans for setting up a new record after the pregnancy. For drinking the most coffee at one go, of course.

After that we often settle down on the couch and watch a movie. Recently mainly movies which are somehow related to pregnancy or birth or babies. I could do without the delivery scenes, that part of getting our child is still something I don't want to think about and that frightens me a little. More than a little, actually. The other topics in those movies are not that bad, it's nice to see that my worries and fears seem to be quite normal for prospective dads. Sometimes however we don't pay much attention to the TV because we are too busy with talking, kissing or trying to analyze the baby's movements inside Lorelai's stomach.

Later comes our favorite part of the evening, before we go to bed I gently cream Lorelai's body with lotion. We do this since the very beginning of the pregnancy, to prevent stretch marks. But this intimate and gentle ritual means so much more to us. I begin the massage at her stomach and proceed to her full breasts, the smooth skin on her back, her buttocks. I make sure not to miss the spot near her spine, where she is ticklish, just to hear that indescribably adorable giggle she only reserves for the moments I touch her there. She is more sensitive now than ever. It only needs my breath on her skin, a little stroking with my hand to make her close her eyes and absorb every touch of me. Like erotic would be her source of energy. Or her substitute for coffee. Our lovemaking is confirmation that everything is okay with us, that we are still happy with each other no matter how her body or our life have changed. "You know, when my belly grows more we'll need to find another f avorite position. Not that we don't have a large assortment to choose from. " she said a while ago with raised eyebrows and a broad grin, when our breathing had reached a normal pace again and she snuggled up to me. We now often make love with me spooning her, her back rests against my chest and her buttocks are pressed against my pelvic area. Both of my arms carry her stomach and we connect with each other slowly and almost weightless. I enjoy whispering little things in her ear (the kind of words she'd comment with a "Dirty!" if she wouldn't be so breathless), to fondle her breasts, to feel the silhouette of her pregnant belly and to place kisses on her neck while we are tightly intertwined. In between lives our child. I wonder what it thinks when we sleep with each other. Hopefully the love of it's parents doesn't confuse it. Does it shares Lorelai's feelings? Maybe the baby doesn't notice anything at all. Or it enjoys the gentle rocking. But what if it's little heart has trouble beating so fast? According to the doctor and to my book there is nothing to worry about. But still, it can't hurt to be careful. No need to hurry, time for slow and sensual lovemaking. But Lorelai doesn't want to be treated like a national treasure, she wants to be a woman like before. "I'm pregant, Honey, not sick." She seems to get more lecherous every week while my paranoia grows. Is it okay, when I'm already deep inside her and she pushes further? Or if she moves so vigorously? Maybe our baby wants to tell me something when it sometimes kicks my hand while I touch Lorelai's stomach? "Sheer coincidence, Babe. That's exactly the way our baby came into my belly, so I guess it doesn't have a problem with us sleeping together." Probably I should just trust her instincts, after all she is mother and child in one person.

After her daily dose of energy Lorelai is now sleeping soundly. Not drinking coffee in the evening does that to her. I don't mind, she needs her rest. I hold her tight and try to fall asleep as well, despite all the worries and fears on my mind. They seem to increase at night. The closeness of Lorelai's naked curves also diverts my mind from my intention to sleep. Besides I want to witness every detail this pregnancy involves, no matter how small it is. Who knows what I could miss while I'm not awake. Maybe sleep is overrated anyway.

* * *

**TBC...And prepare for a little angst. Only a little, I promise.**


	4. Moonbeams

**April**

When you love someone you always live with the thought at the back of your mind, that this person could leave you – in one way or another. Especially if you already lost loved ones at an age when you still thought they would be there for you forever. I was sad and angry after my mother's death, but being a child I somehow found a way to carry on. But that incident unconsciously made me change my priorities in life. From meeting with friends for swimming in the lake or annoying Taylor by mixing up the price tags at the market to spending every minute I wasn't at school helping my dad at his store. I had to make sure nothing would happen to him. Years later, after he also died much too young, I felt a different kind of pain than after my first encounter with death. Sure, I was sad and and angry too, but I also blamed myself for it. That I had failed to properly protect him. I didn't have someone to talk about this. Liz was caught in her own world and wouldn't have list ened anyway, I didn't have real friends anymore because I never had time for them and going to a psychiatrist wasn't my style at all. And so it happened: entrance bitterness. What was the point in loving someone when it eventually would only hurt you? I stayed in my grumpy and unapproachable state for years, until one day a tornado named Lorelai entered my life and step by step blew away the walls I had built around my heart. I tried to shake off the impact she had on me when I was just thinking about her, but I only succeeded on the surface. Being near her always made me forget my striving for distance to other people. Still I needed years before I was finally able to let myself in for love again.

In the beginning of our relationship I was afraid to open up to Lorelai completely, to make myself vulnerable by sharing with her all my emotional ballast which had accumulated over the years. But once those obstacles were conquered everything was better than I could have im agined. It was like I had all the time waited for her to wake me up from a self-imposed hibernation and now I was breathing the fresh air of spring again. And then Lorelai's announcement of the pregnancy increased my happiness even more, so much that I started to whistle when I made a burger or wiped the counter. Very annoying habit, but I couldn't help it. Nevertheless I never completely got rid of my fears, that one day Lorelai and the baby wouldn't be there anymore. Everything was so perfect that inevitably something bad would happen. I always admired Lorelai, how she could be so calm considering the huge responsibility she already had for our baby before it was even born. Optimism isn't one of my best friends, but I tried to enjoy the closeness between Lorelai and me and to forget my dark thoughts. Most of the time I was successful, that's why the incident last month was even worse to bear for me. It seemed that my foreboding would become reality.

I stood up early because of a delivery I expected for the diner. Normally I would have delegated that task to Caesar, Lane or my new employee Mike, but unfortunately I had given them the morning off. I was a little annoyed with myself that I hadn't thought of the doctor's appointment when they asked me. It was only a routine checkup, but I would have liked to accompany Lorelai as usually. I had just served Kirk his breakfast (after a long discussion if his body could tolerate wholemeal bread and scrambled eggs before 9 a.m.), when the phone rang. At first I didn't recognize Lorelai's voice, perhaps because I never before heard her talk in such a serious voice. And it was also noticeable that she had cried. A vise made of fear immediately clutched my heart tightly and I wasn't able to fully grasp what my wife told me, until the word "hospital" brought me back to reality again. I can't remember what exactly Lorelai said on the phone, all I know is that I kicked all my customers out and closed the diner. Then I drove home as fast as my old truck could. I threw indiscriminately some of Lorelai's clothes and cosmetics in a bag, all the time trying to persuade myself that everything would turn out well. It couldn't be that bad if she was able to call me, right? When I passed by our collection of ultrasound pictures at the door of the fridge my restlessness stopped. It felt like an eternity that I stood there and looked at the different stages of growth our baby had gone through. I remembered the last ultrasound when it looked as if it had waved at us.

Finally I tore myself away from my memories and set off to the hospital. When I arrived I knew again promptly, why I hated to be there. The mix of injured people and disinfectants makes me sick, literally. I ignored my nausea and asked for my wife. They were still examining her, but someone led me to her room where I could wait. It's amazing how many complications you can think of in only half an hour. Lorelai was wheeled in on a gurney. That view made my heart ache, but then she smiled at me and I knew our baby was okay. I kissed her and she was glad to have me at her side now. While a nurse helped her to get off of the gurney and settle down in bed I held her hand firmly, to protect her and show her I'm always there for her. And probably also because I needed something to cling to. When we were alone, Lorelai told me what was going on. The doctor had diagnosed preterm labor during the checkup. Apparently our baby didn't want to wait for the estimated due date and had decided to come seven weeks earlier. The funny thing is that Lorelai didn't feel any contractions, but the examination at the hospital confirmed the diagnose.

A friendly doctor explained to us that everything was under control now. According to him preterm labor isn't unusual when the mother is over a certain age. Talking about age - not the best way to win Lorelai over. She got intravenous fluids to prevent the contractions and a medication which should help our baby's lungs mature. He said our child would survive and be healthy in all probability. I didn't like the "in all probability" part, I wanted a guarantee that everything would be 100 percent fine. He couldn't give me that, but told me not to worry because they would do what they could to postpone the delivery as long as possible. That meant bed rest and hospitalization for Lorelai. I could hardly imagine her lying in bed all day and doing nothing. She didn't seem to like the idea too much herself, judging by the face she made when the doctor announced it. The worst for her was that she had to stay at the hospital, at least for a while.

We spent the first day of Lorelai's "imprisonment" (her choice of word) with talking - to the doctor, with each other and on the phone. I informed Caesar that he was in charge at the diner for an indefinite period, told Sookie that Lorelai's maternity leave was beginning at that moment, called Emily and Richard and left Rory a message. Her parents came by for a short visit on their way to a party, they seemed to be really concerned. Emily sitting at the edge of Lorelai's bed and holding her hand was a strange sight. And it was the first time I witnessed that she kissed her daughter goodbye. The tears which formed in Lorelai's eyes after that are not only to blame on the hormones, I suppose. Rory called and promised to visit her mom the next day, school didn't allow her to come earlier. After a not so tasty dinner Lorelai fell into a troubled sleep. I was sitting on a chair next to her, holding her hand, my head resting on the bed. My eyes were fixed on her face, I was in watchdog-mode. I was thinking about what the doctor had said, that the baby would survive if it came now. But I wasn't really convinced, there had to be a reason that a pregnancy normally lasts longer. I hoped and prayed that our baby would wait a while, until it was really "complete". We didn't even buy a baby carriage yet, I also hadn't finish the little bed. And a more selfish aspect was that I needed those additional seven weeks to be totally ready for fatherhood.

When I woke up the next morning I felt very old because every inch of my body ached. Falling asleep in that uncomfortable position was not the best idea I ever had. But Lorelai was in a much more positive mood than the day before, she seemed to have accepted her new calm doctor-prescribed lifestyle. I did my best to keep her in that mood by convincing the nurse to bring a TV to her room, by providing her with the newest issues of the colorful magazines she likes and by just being there for her. Lorelai reminded me to call the diner to check if it's still standing. I hadn't even thought about it, my mind was occupied with more important things. In the afternoon Rory came as she had promised. I gave them a little girl's time and took a walk in the park outside the hospital. Later, when Lorel ai had her daily checkup, I had a really good talk with Rory. We told each other about our concerns for Lorelai and the baby. And then she surprised me with asking me for relationship advice. She had some trouble with her boyfriend and it seemed that my recommendations meant a lot to her. When we hugged goodbye I had the feeling that I maybe wouldn't be a total miscast as a dad. I planned to stay the next night at the hospital again, but Lorelai sent me home. "You are in no way helpful for me or the baby if you look like Quasimodo. Although I'd make a gorgeous Esmeralda." I didn't like the thought to leave her alone, but reluctantly I went home.

The house was empty and depressing when I arrived there. I cleaned up the mess I had left the other day when I packed Lorelai's stuff for the hospital, then I went to bed. But of course my mind had other plans than to let me sleep. The memory of my tree house dream was still clear after a couple of weeks and so I began to think about my dad again. I wondered what it was like for him when my mom was pregnant with me. Or with Liz. Did he feel the same fears and insecurities? And for the umpteenth time I wished he would still be there to help me through all of this. Or at least that I would have been old enough when he died to ask him that kind of questions. Of course my thoughts were spinning around Lorelai and the baby too. I don't think I could survive if anything would happen to them. Lying there alone in the dark bedroom, the feeling of sustained loss and of imminent loss hit me hard and unprepared. All I could do was bury my head in a Lorelai-scented pillow and cry like I hadn't since my father's funeral. Needless to say that I didn't get much sleep.

When I came home the next evening I didn't go to the trouble of undressing and lying down in the cold and empty bed, instead I spent the whole night finishing the bed for our baby. This work was very reassuring and I had the feeling to do som ething useful. After another sleepless night I gave up, searched and found my old camp bed and placed it next to Lorelai's bed in her hospital room. I didn't want be without her at night and if her bed was too small for the two of us (or three of us actually) I had to find another way. We lived at the hospital for two and a half weeks. There was not much to do for us, Lorelai was laid up the entire time. Lots of people visited us and brought presents. We played card games, watched TV, read to each other from books and magazines. At the end of week number two I gave in and painted Lorelai's toe nails. We tried to finally decide how our baby should be named, unsuccessfully. Most of the time the doctors and nurses gave us privacy, our days were only interrupted by the necessary examinations. Our baby had obviously changed it's mind about it's being-born-earlier-plans, the contractions had reduced to a normal amount even after the doctors stopped to give Lorelai the medicaments. Today, after endless days of doing nothing productive, I was finally able to take Lorelai home again. Not without being warned that I have to make sure she doesn't overstrain herself, that she stays in bed most of the time and that sex is absolutely prohibited. Like I wouldn't have known all of that myself.

It's such a relief to lie in our own bed again, Lorelai close to me in her new favorite sleeping position on her left side. We were gone to bed early, her back to me she snuggled up to my body. After a few softly exchanged words and with my arms protectively around her, she was soon sleeping soundly. I can't sleep like so often. While listening to her breathing I observe how the light of the full moon outside the window paints irregular patterns on her body. I am tired, but somehow I don't really want to sleep and just watch her. My mind is occupied with thoughts about the future. Unconsciously my hand strokes Lorelai's stomach. I turn around a little to look at th e pink alarm clock (her's of course) on the bedside table. 1.13 a.m. already. As I shift back into my former position I feel her stir at my side, sleepily she whispers my name. I tell her that I'm sorry for waking her up. "You didn't. A moonbeam tickled my nose." I chuckle because of her typical Lorelai-logic, place a tender kiss on her shoulder and say that she should go back to sleep. But she turns to lie on her back and wants to know why I am awake. Evasively I admit that I was thinking about a couple of things. "What things?" I should have known that my answer wouldn't satisfy her. One day I will tell her about the night when I had cried alone in our bed, about all my fears. But not tonight. It is my job to keep everything that could upset her away and I'm not sure how she would react if I'd break down right here and now.

So I cover up by saying that I was thinking about how _he_ will look like. I notice the confused look on her face and gently caress her preg nant belly with my left hand and say "He." She understands and I can see her eyes light up, competing with the moonlight. That is one of the good things that happened at the hospital: we know now that we are getting a son. Not that I would have been disappointed if it would be a girl, but I'm really excited about all the things I can do with him and what I can teach him. "Considering who his parents are, I guess he will be gorgeous." No doubt about that. "And he will most likely have blue eyes, my cute little nose and your luscious lips." I wonder what we will do if he has my nose and her lips. Grinning she tells me that in that case we'll have to let him at the hospital and try again. I love how she always can rise my mood with only one smile. But of course she knows instinctively what really goes on inside of me. She is getting serious again, looks deep into my eyes and while her fingers play with my hand that covers her stomach, she asks me if I'm afraid. I tell her that I am and she strokes my cheek and places a soft but lingering kiss on my lips, one of the kind I can never get enough of. I don't know how she does this, where this power comes from, but this simple gesture is enough to tell me that everything will be okay. That all three of us will get through this adventure safely. She senses my other insecurity as well and tells me that I will be a great dad, like she did many times before. "And it's true. You will be there for our son. You will teach him how to play baseball and all the other kinds of sport you men fancy and which I'll never understand. You can take him to fishing trips, which I will attend too. But I'll watch the fish catching and fish gutting from afar and will only participate actively in the fish eating. You will help him to become a marvelous man like you are, so that one day some girl will be lucky to marry him. And most important, you will love him with all your heart." Just like I love her. She makes this sound s o easy, and who knows – maybe it will be. I kiss her nose, which makes her giggle. "That feels exactly like the moonbeam." She quickly kisses away the frown that begins to form on my face after that comment. I tell her that we both should sleep now because of the early doctor's appointment we have. She turns around again and snuggles up to my chest. "I bet our little Luke is wondering why his crazy parents don't stop talking in the middle of the night." I'm worried she really wants to name our son Luke, that could be a little confusing. But she reassures me that it's just a working title. I wonder if we will ever find a suitable name, we have only 4 and a half weeks to think of something. Already half asleep Lorelai murmurs "Good night my two Lukes. Love you." I smile and whisper in her ear that I and little Luke love her too. And after all I'm feeling like I might get some sleep as well. 

**TBC...**


	5. The End and the Beginning

**May**

I had read my helpful book carefully, and more than once I might add. Therefore I thought I knew what to expect of the last weeks of the pregnancy, that they would be the hardest for Lorelai. But it was not mentioned that this was applying to me as the dad-to-be too. Maybe that's because it was written by a woman. I was prepared that Lorelai would need me more than ever. And more than ever I was willing to do everything for her. But still I couldn't have imagined how emotionally demanding it would be, for both of us. If I look back now I see those last weeks as the ultimate test for our relationship, as a hurdle we had to surmount to know that we were really ready to be parents. Because the doubts were undeniably there. I had them when I watched Jackson playing and laughing with his kids. Or when we crossed out the day on the calendar in the kitchen after dinner and slowly but surely came closer to the date where Lorelai had drawn a baby (which looked more like a defor med turtle to me) under the number. But before we were getting there, we had to overcome some difficulties and a major but cleaning breakdown.

The physical demands were nerve-racking for Lorelai and that she was sentenced only to rest, rented movies and my cooking didn't help either. We were thankful for the doctor's appointments at the hospital twice a week, they provided a little diversion. Luckily everything was okay with the baby, at least we didn't have to worry about our son as well. He was very lively inside Lorelai's womb and created little bumps on the surface with his hands and feet. I often covered them with my palm until I felt the warmth of my hands flow into Lorelai's body and to our child. It seemed to calm him down and I enjoyed feeling so close to my wife and my kid at the same time.

Lorelai didn't sleep well because she had trouble to find a comfortable position. Many times, when I woke up at night, I found her standing leaned upon the bed frame because that was the only way she was feeling okay and could breathe easier. Boredom was almost killing us. We are both not the kind of person who likes to sit at home all day and do nothing. I think every human being is only able to bear a certain amount of insipid lowbrow activities. And after every board game is played more times than you can count, when you know all the answers to the Trivial Pursuit questions in advance and the lines to all your favorite movies are burnt into your mind so deeply that you will never ever forget them again – that's the time when you go crazy. Two and a half weeks before the due date we were both ready to just get it over with and finally have a more pleasant reason for sleepless nights than that Lorelai had to go to the bathroom every 30 minutes.

We were both extremely moody and it felt like our wonderful relationship was a little out of balance. We had some misunderstandings and little arguments about banal stuff, moments of sil ence. From experience we knew that we need to be able to tell each other everything and comfort each other, otherwise we don't function. It's human, I guess, to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Otherwise I can't explain that neither of us did the first step to talk about some very important things. And maybe we were also frightened of the outcome of such a conversation.

Caught between wanting to do everything right and worrying not to be able, I was afraid to tell Lorelai all the things I had on my mind. Besides, it was as if Lorelai had kept all the nervousness and restlessness (and stubbornness too) for the last month and I didn't want to saddle her with my problems in addition. She was tired, cranky and sick of her huge belly and I felt responsible for all of that. Well, and basically I was. She reassured me that we were in this together, but I still tried to make up for bringing her into that situation with being especially considerate and obliging. Bu t of course it turned out that Lorelai didn't like to be handled with kid gloves and told me that firmly. I didn't want to argue again with my nine months pregnant wife and tried to make my efforts less obvious.

Sometimes I was forced to leave Lorelai at home alone. I did that very reluctantly, but now and then I had to buy groceries or check on the diner. Before I went to Doose's on one of the first really beautiful days of spring I made sure that Lorelai was somewhat comfortable on the front porch, that she had enough to eat, drink and read. She would have rather stayed inside, but I convinced her that fresh air would be good for her and the baby.

When I came back only 30 minutes later the place where Lorelai had sat was empty. Maybe it was too warm outside or she was tired, I thought. But then I almost stepped on the fragments of a mug on the floor. Hello Kitty design, her favorite one. I managed to drop the shopping bags and enter the house in one movement. M y heart was beating fast and I prepared myself for the worst. I found Lorelai on the couch, looking the picture of misery. With one step I was at her side and held her trembling body close to mine. While I stroked her hair I felt her tears soak through my shirt. Interrupted by sobs she kept repeating "It's broken. It was so cute and now I smashed it." I didn't care about the mug. If necessary I would have bought her hundreds of them and let her break one every day as long as it would make her happy. But right then I was more interested in patching up the broken pieces of her former optimistic and self-confident personality.

As the sobbing decreased I asked her to tell me what had really caused her meltdown. And finally she began to unburden herself to me. Hesitantly at first, but soon I knew how she felt and recognized many of my fears in her's. She told me that she was afraid she couldn't make it to be a mother again, that she had the feeling to do everything wrong be fore our son was even born. "If I can't even be trusted with a stupid mug, how on earth can I take care of a baby? It's been so many years since I did that." She was convinced that the naivety of a sixteen year old girl had prevented her to worry about anything when she was pregnant for the first time. Things had turned out well with Rory, but Lorelai was not sure if she as her mother did have a big part in the success or if it was just luck. Now that she knew what was in store for her, she was anxious about the delivery and the future. I admitted that I was not sure myself if and how I could be a good dad and that I didn't really knew what to expect. I saw new tears form in her eyes and hurried to add that there was one thing I was certain of: that she had been a great mother for Rory and would be for our son as well. She should just trust her instincts like before and remember that we both together could achieve everything.

We were both crying now, but it were less d esperate than relieved tears. If anyone would have seen us that way, two adults clinging to each other on the couch and sobbing and laughing at the same time, they probably would have thought we had lost our minds. But the truth is, we didn't lose anything but finally found a way back to sincerity. We continued to talk till it was dark outside, forgotten were the scattered groceries and the remains of the Hello Kitty mug on the porch. I finally managed to tell Lorelai about my tree house and how much I missed my parents, how wretched I had felt when she was at the hospital with preterm labor. It was such a relief to share that with her, I don't know why I had waited so long.

A few days later I found an envelope on my pillow when we went to bed. I nearly crushed it like the little yellow duck 8 months earlier. The words "Happy Father's Day" in Lorelai's unmistakable handwriting were resplendent on the front. I tried to protest that it wasn't Father's Day at all, but Lor elai told me I should just pretend it would be. Grinning she watched me open it and obviously enjoyed to see that her gift had made me speechless. In my hands I held a picture of my dad and me, standing arm in arm in front of my tree house. It must have been taken on the day my dad had finished my house. A proud expression was displayed on my father's face and I looked up to him admiringly. Underneath Lorelai had written "A good son will be the best father". I don't have many pictures of my dad and this one I had never seen before. Lorelai had instructed Rory to ask everyone in town who was old enough if they maybe had a picture like that and surprisingly many residents could help her. Apparently William Danes building his son a tree house was the main attraction of Stars Hollow on that day. Of all people it was Taylor who had the best snapshot and he was even willing to give it to her. I don't know how Lorelai always comes up with those crazy ideas, but I'm so thankful that she gave me that piece of memory. I put the picture up on the wall in our baby's room, to be reminded of my childhood whenever I'm spending time there with him. I'm looking forward to one day tell my son the background story of this photo.

Finally May 5th came and with it our expected due date. We were well prepared. The hospital bag was packed with everything for Lorelai and the baby, I checked that several times. When we drove to our doctor's appointments at the hospital I had tested three different routes for their safety and fastness. Just in case. I didn't want to risk to get stuck in a traffic jam while my wife was in labor. Maybe I had seen too many of those stupid movies with Lorelai to think that could happen, but having no real knowledge of obstetrics I was rather prepared. Who didn't want to stick to our well-planned schedule was our son, he already had his own plans. A couple of weeks ago he couldn't wait to be born and now he was playing for time. Lorelai 's doctor told us that we had no reason to worry about that, everything was fine and they wouldn't yet induce labor. We should just enjoy our last days with only the two of us and be patient. Yeah, because that was so easy.

With the danger of preterm labor averted, Lorelai took that as an excuse for doing whatever she liked and what her onerous condition allowed her. She dragged me out for a long walk around town, a visit at Sookie's and Jackson's house and a movie at the B.W.R. movie theater. If Rory wouldn't have been too busy at school, I think it would have been almost impossible to talk Lorelai out of driving to Yale. And that was only day 1 of our "overtime". I was glad to see her so happy and lively again, the slight craziness I had fallen in love with shining through again now and then. But I had my cellphone and the numbers of the doctor and the hospital within reach all the time, to be on the safe side.

Two days later we went to the 3rd anniversary of t he Dragonfly. Lorelai thoroughly enjoyed spending time with our friends again. Sure, they had visited her frequently, but having the whole crazy bunch together was always something special. Apparently Kirk had taken dancing lessons and we had a hard time to convince him that doing the tango with him was not the right thing for Lorelai. But Lorelai and I danced together. They started playing "our" song, the one we danced to at Liz' wedding. Though Lorelai denies it, I'm sure she had arranged that. I put my arms around her from behind and rested my hands on her belly. With her back pressed against my chest we slowly swayed to the music. Feeling the warmth of her body and inhaling her perfume, I remembered that first dance we ever shared. Back then I had been overwhelmed by feeling so emotionally and physically close to her. God, I had been so scared to to something wrong, to screw up the friendship we had for years. Over three years later many things had changed, had taken a t urn for the better. But I was still amazed by her presence and that she had chosen to be with me.

I had expected that all the excitement and the dancing would maybe encourage our son to join the fun, but that didn't happen. On the evening of May 9th we both could hardly wait. I was very nervous and thought labor would begin whenever Lorelai put a hand on her belly or groaned because her back hurt. Lorelai was especially impatient. Now that our son had already missed the unique opportunity to be born at the date of the Dragonfly's anniversary, she thought it would be great for him to share his birthday with Bono (him again) on May 10th. She was willing to try almost everything to achieve that goal. Rory had emailed her a list she had discovered on the internet with tips how to start labor and Lorelai had spent the day trying them out.

Wearing nothing but one of my flannel shirts she walked up and down the stairs in a frenzy all morning. A very funny but adorable v iew, by the way. She drank a glass of red vine and some weird smelling tea that Sookie had brought her. Lorelai thought it was a pity that drinking coffee hadn't made it on the list. Later I helped her to take a warm bath, but nothing seemed to work. "Maybe he knows that we still don't have a name for him." was the reason Lorelai came up with. The idea wasn't that absurd. We had tried, really. Countless nights when we were lying in bed we had discussed baby names. Not that we could have done much else in bed with the prohibition the doctor had given us regarding other activities. But still we seemed to be unable to find a suitable name for our child. We had a couple of ideas, but either one of us didn't like it when the other suggested it or we both didn't like it anymore some days later. Lorelai tended to find unusual and imaginative names, but I had a problem to name our son after something edible or a cartoon character. We went through our family trees hoping to find some thing there and only discovered that crazy names were customary in Lorelai's family. Finally we decided to wait till we would see our baby and then give him a name which would suit him best. We convinced each other that this was a brilliant idea, but I guess in reality it was just an excuse.

I had a serious fatherly talk with our son inside Lorelai's stomach and told him that he would get the best name ever, that we were waiting for him and that there was nothing to be afraid of out here because we would always protect him. I also reassured him that I saved him from having clown wallpapers in his room, if that should be the reason he didn't want to leave his current space. Needless to say that this comment got me a frown and a punch against my shoulder from my wife.

When I went to the bathroom that night to take a shower, Lorelai was already in bed and pouted that she still didn't feel any symptom that labor would start soon. But when I returned a couple of minut es later she welcomed me with a broad smile. "Ok, I'm almost through this list. I refuse to drink castor oil, so it's your turn now." Her raised eyebrows gave me an idea what she was talking about. I had read before that the same thing that had led to the pregancy could also get us out of it. What can I say, I'm just a man and the weeks of involuntary abstinence had left their mark on me. And if it could help to start labor, why not? We made love slowly and cautiously, both fully aware that this was probably the last time before we would be parents. It felt so good to be able to do this again. Sex had never been the most important thing in our relationship, but nevertheless we had missed it.

We'll never know if it were our physical activities or the chance to be born on the same day like "the greatest and sexiest musician ever" (those are not my words), but something worked. I slept well that night and was surprised to find Lorelai sitting in bed the next morning, solv ing a crossword puzzle. I asked her what on earth had inspired her to do that instead of getting some sleep. She told me that she was awake for almost 3 hours and had used crosswords to while away the time. That still didn't make any sense to me and so she added "The contractions are coming every 10 minutes now." She didn't think it was necessary to rob me of my sleep too because there was still plenty of time till the baby would come. And apparently I look "cute" when I sleep. I felt like someone had poured a bucket full of ice-cold water over my head and was wide-awake immediately. A wave of panic washed over me and I tried frantically to think of what to do next. Lorelai seemed very calm and didn't want to drive to the hospital until her water broke and the intervals between the contractions had decreased to seven minutes. We drove in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. I wished I hadn't seen so many delivery scenes in movies and read so much about it. Going through t his without knowing what would happen seemed like a pretty good idea at that time.

As we arrived, the contractions suddenly stopped. They gave Lorelai some medication and soon she was in labor again, the contractions came now severely and every three to four minutes. Lorelai changed her position between squatting down, sitting and walking around. Her back hurt more than ever and I tried to ease her pain by massaging her or pushing all my weight against her back. This went on for three hours, but no real progress happened. According to the doctor the uterine orifice still hadn't opened wide enough. They soon discovered that our son's head wasn't in the right position in Lorelai's pelvis like it should be. I didn't understand completely what that meant, but I knew that the delivery wouldn't be so easy for Lorelai as I had hoped and prayed. But the doctor was convinced that a normal birth was still possible. Unfortunately my distrust of doctors and hospitals proved to be true once again.

Have you ever witnessed the delivery of a baby? No? You should be thankful for that. There's nothing magical or wonderful about it, except the result. Especially if the person that gives birth is someone you love so much, that already the thought she could hurt herself by cutting on a piece of paper gives you heartache. And then this: an awful struggle that lasts for hours. In a glaringly lighted hospital room with no chance to escape, not for me and all the more not for Lorelai. More than once I was inwardly cursing the idiot who thought it was a good idea to start a life like that. I wanted to scream and hurt someone, to protect Lorelai from the needle the doctor inserted into her arm. Or from the nurse that told her over and over again to push although she clearly was at the end of her strength. But I was just standing there holding her hand, wiping the sweat off her face and neck, praying for it to end soon and to end happily. Trying to be strong. For her. For our baby. Fighting to ignore the nausea that inevitably came because of the hospital smell. And maybe because I was too nervous that morning to eat something for breakfast. Lorelai screamed and fought and clang her nails into my hand. With every contraction I was more indebted to her. I saw her labia, taut like a bowstring. I watched her suffer and couldn't do anything against it. At that time I wasn't sure if I could do that to her ever again.

All the strains didn't lead to any progress, Lorelai was exhausted and our son's heart rate fell a little. Around 3 p.m. they finally decided to do a c-section. I know that Lorelai wanted a normal birth and having a c-section was what she always feared, but I still was relieved that they didn't let her struggle any longer. Then everything happened very fast and she was getting prepared for the operation. I tried to convince her (and me) that everything would turn out fine. Lorelai decided that she at least wanted to be awake for the surgery. I felt guilty for being glad that I had to go outside and suit up with mask, hair net and all that stuff while they injected the spinal anesthesia into her back, but I'm really not sure how I would have taken it to witness that. Lorelai was wheeled into the operation room. I was beside her during the whole operation, a green sheet was shielding what was going on around Lorelai's midsection. She didn't feel any pain, but lots of pulling and tugging in her belly. God, I can't even think about how that must have been for her. Lorelai held my hand very tightly and I tried to calm her down by petting her head, rubbing her arm and talking to her softly. The only other sounds for a while were the ticking of the heart monitor, the chatting of the surgeons and the clicking of the instruments. Later I realized that the whole c-section took only 8 minutes, but at that time it seemed so much longer. Lorelai started shaking very badly because of the anesthesia and they put an oxygen mask on her face.

Several minutes after the surgery began, the anesthesiologist told me to stand up that I could watch how our son was lifted out. First I hesitated, because they told me before that it was important to stay behind the drape and also because inside my head I had some bloody horror visions of what was going on. But I'm glad I decided to witness how our baby was born. At 3.54 p.m. on May 10th 2007 I became a dad. Our little boy was was not bloody at all, only very red-faced and he screamed loudly. The doctor held him up that Lorelai could see him too and, for good measure, our son stated his opinion about the whole situation by peeing all over everything. It's hard to describe the millions of different feelings and thoughts I had when I saw him for the first time. I was relieved and happy and worried, wondering how life was about to change, how much I would be going to screw up that kid.

A nurse wrapped him up in a blanket to protect him from the chill of the operation room. They briefly showed him to us before bringing him to the nursery to be evaluated. Speechless and crying Lorelai and I looked at that amazing little creature in front of us. My wife stroked his little hand with her finger, but I didn't dare to touch him. Not yet, he looked so small and fragile. Lorelai sent me with him to the nursery, I couldn't stay with her anyway for the rest of the operation.

While the nurse weighed and measured him I couldn't take my eyes off him for one minute. He weighed 8 pounds 3 ounces and was 21 ¼ inches long. I noticed his black hair, the puffy eyes, a perfect snub nose, the trembling tongue inside his mouth. Expressing his annoyance with crying and kicking, it was obvious that he was already very strong-minded and stubborn. That must be in his genes, I suppose. I felt bad because he got a name tag with only "Danes" and a number on it, only because we were not able to agree on a name. Before I had a chance to protest, the nurse put my son into my arms. I was amazed that he stopped crying and opened his big, midnight blue eyes wide.

Holding him was incomprehensibly beautiful and overwhelming. It felt different than when I fell in love with Lorelai, more undoubtedly. This little boy won my heart immediately and this feeling would never change. I knew it. As sure as you know you have to die someday. So that's how it is to be a father, was what I thought. Only thinking about him now causes something new inside of me, a warm and strong feeling I never knew before. Cheerful but silent, tender but firm. A mix of protector instincts, love and humility for life.

I carried our son to the recovery room, where Lorelai already waited for us. She was tired and the strains had left their mark on her face. Her skin was like wax,she had rings around her eyes and her lips were dry and chapped. But her eyes were shining with happiness, fully aware of what she just had accomplished. I laid our son into her arms and stood there watching my family. Just to say something and to get rid of the lump in my throat and the tears I felt forming behind my eyes, I asked her unnecessarily if she was happy. "Very! I could have done without the pain, but the reward was well worth it!" she exclaimed and I bent down to kiss first her lips and then our son's forehead. "Can you believe that he really belongs to us? Completely and forever? " Lorelai asked. I was thinking exactly the same. It was a wonderful feeling, but frightening nevertheless.

The three of us spent almost an hour in the recovery room. Our son was nursed for the first time which he hungrily enjoyed. He really seemed to have inherited his mother's appetite. After Lorelai and our baby were brought to their room they both took a nap and I went to take care of the overdue phone calls to inform Rory, Lorelai's parents, Liz and our friends that our addition to the family was finally there. Of course they were all excited and wanted to come to the hospital right away, but I told everyone but Rory to give us a little time to recover and wait till the next day. It was especially hard to convince Emily who had the opinion we should have informed her as soon as Lorelai went into labor. Finally even she got it that we were still too overwhelmed and had to adjust to the situation as that we could deal with a lot of visitors.

I went back to my wife and kid, sat down in a chair next to the bed and just watched them sleeping. I must have fallen asleep too, because the next thing I remember is waking up because of a baby's crying. Our son was fighting for attention. I took him out of his crib and he was calm immediately. Lorelai was awake too and once again we spent a lot of time with just watching our baby. Lorelai sighed and said "We are pathetic. " Before I had a chance to question that statement she continued "We are rewarded with this beautiful, healthy and a mazing baby and even fail at the simple things like giving him a name." We tried several minutes to figure out what he looked like, before we were interrupted by Rory's visit. She almost didn't want to let go her little brother once she held him. We took lots of pictures with the camera Rory had brought, that was the one thing we had forgotten to put in the hospital bag. Not even Rory could help us with our name problem, she only jokingly suggested to wait till our baby would be old enough to tell us which name he would like. In the evening I was desperate enough to consider Lorelai's idea to give him Bono's real name, now that they share the same birthday. But we dropped this thought as well, he just didn't look like a Paul or a David.

The solution came the next day. Very early in the morning Emily and Richard showed up, they just couldn't wait any longer. With a proud look on her face Emily proclaimed " He looks like a true Gilmore." While I was still contemplating i f she wanted to offend me with that or not, I noticed a triumphant smile playing around Lorelai's lips. Who would have thought that a comment by Emily could get our son a name? Lorelai had given up her maiden name to adopt my name very reluctantly and so it made sense to me as she announced our son would be called "Gilmore Lucas Danes". I could live with it. It was a little bit unusual, but not too much. When I look back now how hard we took that decision, I can't help laughing. Most of the time we use pet names for our son anyway. Lorelai can't stop calling him "Lukey" and I'm getting used to it too. If someone had told me that a couple of months ago I wouldn't have believed them.

We left the hospital five days after Gilmore's birth. In the beginning the changes of our daily routine were a little difficult, especially because Lorelai still hasn't completely recovered from the operation. But we are on the best way to make a good team, it gets better every day. I don't know what we have done to deserve this, but we have a very nice kid. He can get furious and loud when he is hungry, but most of the other time he is very well-balanced. Let's hope it stays that way.

The first nights at home neither Lorelai nor I were able to sleep. Not because our son was crying all the time, but we were always waiting that he would. We were lying there listening to the silence and now and then one of us got up to look after him. Soon we recognized that it was wise to get some sleep too when he wasn't awake. Although Gilmore is only three weeks old now, it's already hard to imagine our life before he was born. Who would have thought that happiness could be caused by simple things like changing your son's diaper, tickling his tiny foot or listening to the lullaby your wife sang to him? I also love to lie on the couch with him on top of me, he is sleeping and I just watch and adore him. Lorelai has already taken many with pictures of moments like this an d when I look at them I almost can't believe that I have the same proud and satisfied expression on my face like my dad has in the tree house photo.

I just brought Gilmore back to his room after his 2 a.m. snack. I stroke his cheek till he falls asleep, lying on his back with his right arm stretched out above his head and the left one on his chest. In our bedroom Lorelai is already sleeping again and I almost laugh out loud because her current position is exactly the same like our son's. They even both have the habit to wrinkle their nose when they are dreaming. In my opinion he looks a lot like Lorelai anyway, although she always tries to convince me he would have my lips and eyes.

As I lie down next to her, Lorelai slightly moves. I snuggle up to her, kiss her temple and whisper in her ear that I love her. She probably doesn't hear it, but I just felt the urge to tell her. The strains and complications of the pregnancy and the delivery are almost forgotten now. What remain are the scar on Lorelai's belly, a new life and a changed man. I'm sure we'll have to deal with lots of stress and difficulties in the future, but I'm convinced that the three of us together can take every hurdle. After all we have made it through those past months better than I would have ever expected. And who knows, maybe we'll even repeat that adventure someday.

**The End**

  



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